Illusions

Blistering pain has been trying
To conquer me, one who's dying,
A hollow shell inside the darkness
Living inside an obvious mess

The writhing pain, the soaring
Lightheadedness
And the needles
Pricking the tip of my fingers

The bloodshot eyes,
The fallen ones,
Where do you run to?
To the light or to the
Burning madness of veiled pleasure?